Damaged
by MT Yami
Summary: After they’ve graduated from high school, Kenny realizes that Kyle is the only one he hasn’t hooked up with or had a crush on, and he wonders why. SEME!KyleXKenny oneshot, mild slashyaoi.


Author's Note: KyleXKenny slashyaoi warning in semeXuke order (yes, I love me a seme Kyle). Some stuff in the beginning makes more sense if you read "Bully" but after that, it is a standalone oneshot fic. Just a little bit of wondering what it would be like if Kenny realized he never had a crush on Kyle…and a bit of a cliffhanger. All characters belong to Matt Stone and Trey Parker unless otherwise noted. R&R much loved, flames not so much…if you don't like slash, don't read. Kanpai!

Damaged

Prologue

by MT Yami

Kyle had always been vocal when Kenny was on his deathbed; he didn't cry like Stan or try to manipulate everyone involved like Cartman did. He just fought for Kenny to live. It seemed like a simple motivation when they were kids, but for some reason, now that they had graduated from high school and were heading off to college, fighting for Kenny to live was getting a little old.

In fact, Kyle had half a mind to kill Kenny himself.

"When are you going to stop dying?" Kyle sat by Kenny's bedside, his expression exasperated. His blond friend was lying in a hospital bed, his arm hooked up to an IV and a large bandage over his right eye.

Kenny smiled despite his condition. "Never. I'm immortal, duh. Besides…why do you guys go through all this crap to help me out even though you know I'll be back tomorrow anyway?" He smiled lewdly and rested his hand on Kyle's thigh. "Aw, ya love me."

Wrenching his leg away quickly, Kyle said irately, "I'm not a fag, douchebag. We just can't bear to see you bleeding out your damn eye without doing something about it."

"Cartman seems to have no problems with that."

Kyle could've sworn that his left eye twitched in his irritation. "Cartman also doesn't give a fuck about you."

This time Kenny's smile faltered. "Meh, losing them both at the same time was rough."

"You set yourself up for it. You knew that Cartman and Butters were eventually going to hook up one of these days. Why did you like that fatass, anyway? Your blackmail plan was stupid, I know I've told you before—"

"Hey Kyle, why do _you_ care?"

Kyle turned bright red to match his close-cropped fiery curls. "Dude, you're like one of my best friends. Why wouldn't I care?"

This induced a frown on Kenny's face, and the blond nodded slowly. "Fair enough."

"You know, I would do the same for you as I'd do for Stan."

Stan. Kyle's super best friend. It had been a running joke with everyone that the two of them were so close that they must be lovers, especially after Wendy dumped Stan after prom. Kenny knew it wasn't true. Best friends hooking up was always weird anyway. After what had happened with Cartman and Butters, Kenny had learned a little bit about love. He learned that loving your best friend was usually stupid, and that having sex with your best friend's lover to get back at him usually didn't work too well either. He and Cartman spoke civilly now and got along pretty well when they were with the guys, but more often than not, Butters tagged along and made the situation extremely awkward. The other blond boy probably would never forgive him for the abuse, and Kenny didn't blame him.

Since they had graduated, Kenny's life hadn't changed much. He still lived in his parent's grungy house; since he wasn't going to bother going to college anyway, he had gotten a job fixing cars at Clark's Automotive and Tire. In his spare time, he usually hung out with Kyle, since the group had mostly disbanded in mid-July. The last he'd seen of Stan was at Craig's Fourth of July party, as the dark-haired boy had joined the Army in typical all-American mountain hick fashion. Cartman was spending as much time with Butters as he could before the petite blond left for the University of California, Santa Barbara on a dance scholarship. It had amazed everyone that Cartman himself had gotten into Caltech even with his shitty grades, but his best friends had had a hunch that his diabolical scheming was really revealing a brilliant, if not sociopathic, mind all along. Perfect SAT and ACT scores didn't lie. At least he would be relatively close to his boyfriend.

Kyle was going to Yale in September. Once that happened, Kenny would be alone.

Well, not completely. Bebe would still be around, working at Raisins during the day and stripping at night. She had been persuading him to settle down with her, maybe start a family, soon after prom night, but just because he'd taken her to the stupid thing and been fuck buddies throughout high school didn't mean that Kenny had any intention of marrying her. He'd had lots of fuck buddies in high school, girls _and_ boys.

He felt bad for her a little too. Wendy was leaving for Stanford soon and yet another BFF duo would be broken up.

_Well, thank God for Kyle_, Kenny thought. The redhead had visited him at work to ask him if he'd like to come to lunch, and found him laying partially beneath a pickup with his eye blown out. He'd rushed Kenny to the hospital, and there they were, chatting about why Kyle had done it.

It puzzled Kenny how Kyle had been the only person at their school he'd not hooked up with, or even fantasized about. Even Stan, during his super-emo moments, was delicate and beautiful. Cartman had confided in him later that Stan loved him when they were kids, and the dark-haired boy's inability to watch Kenny die had become suddenly evident. But then, watching Stan's devastation after Wendy left him made Kenny think that once he'd grown up, he had become straight as a board.

But there was nothing about Kyle that Kenny found beautiful. He had recently chopped off the majority of his massive Jewfro, leaving close-cropped curls that hugged his cheekbones. His prominent nose, an indication of his Hebrew heritage, was heavily sprinkled with freckles that stood stark against his ghostly pale skin, and thick red eyebrows knit and unknit constantly above his eyes.

Deep, blazing emerald green eyes. Maybe the only thing Kenny _could_ find beautiful, but not even that. Dangerous. Contemptuous. The thought brought a rangy grin to Kenny's face. He liked dangerous. The only thing he knew, though, was Kyle would never consent to being _anybody's_ bitch, and that was definitely sexy.

"Hey, Kyle."

"What?" Kyle looked at him, annoyed. "What could you possibly want now that I've dragged your sorry ass to this hospital?"

Kenny smiled, and closed his eyes. "Tomorrow, when I come back, let's have sex. Just to see."

The redhead's eyes bugged nearly out of his head and he stood up out of his chair. "What the fuck are you talking about, you poor-ass headcase? Why the fuck would I want to—_Kenny_? Kenny, you fucker, don't you die!"

But it was too late. Kyle would have to wait for tomorrow for his answer, for Kenny had already died.


End file.
